


Ten points for Monkeybutt

by stjarna



Series: Writing Prompts / Drabbles / Requests [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Darwin & Pygmy Puff, Domestic!Fitzsimmons, F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Peggy Fitz-Simmons - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, Writing Prompt, Writing prompt: "She's hiding behind the sofa.", family life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Jemma returns home after a long day at work. She didn't exactly expect what she finds there.bookedbyfandoms requested Nr. 12 + Fitzsimmons from a list of writing prompts on Tumblr.The task: incorporate the phrase "She's hiding behind the sofa" into your fic/drabble.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was written as a standalone piece, but works excellent as a deleted/missing/additional scene for ["Ghosts That We Knew"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8227618)

_Finally. Home_. Jemma walks to the front door of their little cottage. She had missed Fitz and their little Monkeybutt. Fitz had sent her a text earlier that they had spent the morning napping and that her fever had gone down. Jemma had gotten off work at a reasonable time, but nonetheless felt exhausted. Maybe she was coming down with whatever Peggy had caught at her virus-infested daycare. Or maybe it was just the aftereffects of the previous rough night of taking care of their sick child. She had felt guilty all day about going to the lab, even though she knew perfectly well that Fitz would take excellent care of Peggy. But now she was finally home. Jemma couldn’t wait to hug her smart, silly toddler girl, to make sure she was feeling better.

She turns the key and slowly opens the door.

“Help me, Hermione! _Help!_ ” she hears Fitz’s voice, sounding theatrical, and wrinkles her forehead. When she peeks around the corner into their living room, she freezes, her eyes and mouth gape open in shock.

Fitz’s back is turned to the entrance door. He seems to be unaware that she has come home. His right hand is raised, holding one of the drumsticks from Peggy’s toy drum. The entire floor is cluttered with various stuffed animals, books, and scraps of paper.

“Alright, Fitz,” Jemma says loudly, crossing her arms over her chest, “Who threw a bomb in here? Hydra? Watchdogs? Aliens?”

Fitz swirls around so fast that he almost loses his balance, and Jemma snorts trying to suppress a laugh when she sees the black lightning bolt on his forehead. “Or should I rather say _Harry_?”

“Umm,” Fitz stutters flustered, “Hi!” He quickly walks over to Jemma, planting a kiss on her lips, “She was feeling better, so now we’re playing Harry Potter.”

Jemma grins. “Yes, I figured,” she replies, pointing at his forehead. Then her eyes wander across the chaos in the room. “But just out of curiosity, where exactly _is_ our daughter? Is there an invisibility cloak involved? Transfiguration? Because, she _just_ turned three. She’s obviously too young to get her license to apparate.”

“She’s hiding behind the sofa,” Fitz replies, gesturing at their seating area, “aka the Forbidden Forest.”

“Of course, of course,” Jemma nods, smirking at her husband, “Although, a _bit_ more information might be helpful.”

“Well,” Fitz says, and takes a step back into the room, “There was an attack on Hogwarts,” he explains, gesturing at the scattered books and stuffed animals. “And now Hermione is about to save Harry from the… Dementors.” One side of his mouth apologetically quirks up, while his head gestures to the far end of their living room.

Jemma takes a few steps closer to get a look at that particular corner of their house, doing her best to avoid stepping on any of the toys.

“Oh my,” she exclaims, when she sees Pygmy Puff and Darwin. Darwin is wearing one of Fitz’s old gray button-ups, which has apparently been cut to shreds. He’s looking at her rather pathetically with his big brown eyes, rooted to the spot. Pygmy Puff, her usual energetic self, has made quick work with tearing off whatever piece of clothing Fitz and Peggy had tried to put on her, carrying a strip of gray fabric in her mouth, wagging her tail enthusiastically.

“Mommy!” Peggy’s high voice peeps up from behind the sofa, “Come play!”

Her daughter’s enthusiastic voice makes Jemma smile.

“Brilliant idea, Monkeybutt,” Fitz exclaims, turning his head slightly towards the couch, before looking back at Jemma. “Come on, Jemma, it’s fun!”

She wrinkles her forehead, “Oh, Fitz. I’ve been on my feet _all_ day. I’m _exhausted_!”

“Please, mommy, please!” Peggy can be heard again, and Fitz’s eyes are pleading with her as well.

“Well, but...” Jemma tries to interject one more time. Then she lets out a small laugh, and bends down to take off her shoes. “But I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Gryffindor like you and Daddy, Monkeybutt.”

Fitz points at her enthusiastically. “You could be Cho Chang… you know: Harry’s first love interest? Or Luna Lovegood? Or… _ooooor_ Rowena Ravenclaw _herself_? You know ‘beautiful yet slightly intimidating,’ as they say.”

Jemma glares at him, but can’t hide the fact that his snarky comment makes her smile. “Well, _fine_ , I’ll be Luna Lovegood, because I find her _far_ more interesting than Cho Chang… And Rowena Ravenclaw would _obviously_ not fit the current timeline.”

“You need a wand, Mommy!” Peggy exclaims.

“Yes, honey,” Jemma acknowledges, and takes the drumstick that Fitz is offering her. She leans a little closer to her husband and says quietly, “You _are_ aware that of _all_ the Gryffindors you are most certainly _not_ Harry Potter?”

Equally quietly, Fitz replies, “Yes, I’m aware of that, but she woke up a bit earlier from her nap than me, and… so… by the time I woke up, she had already drawn _that_ on me.” He points at the black lightning bolt on his forehead. “…with a Sharpie.”

Jemma lets out a laugh. “That’s Sharpie?”

“Yes,” Fitz replies, and adds with a hint of concern in his voice. “It’ll come off, right?

“Eventually,” Jemma replies, trying her hardest not to laugh.

“Mommy! Daddy! _Play!_ ” Peggy yells from behind the sofa.

“Yes, Monkeybutt,” Jemma replies, “Let’s save Harry, shall we? … Wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.” She looks at her wonderful, caring husband, before taking a few quick steps to hide with Peggy behind the couch. She crouches down next to her daughter, who smiles at her with big blue eyes. She pulls her into a quick welcome hug, and whispers into her ear, “I’m so glad you’re feeling better. 10 points for Monkeybutt.”


End file.
